I never
thought I’d get a tattoo. Especially not one easily mistaken for having Christian connotations. They’re expensive and permanent, and that's obnoxious. Three things I try to
avoid. It’s why I like piercings. (Especially in Michigan: inexpensive and
healable.) But one word has not left my mind for the last year: abide. And I
like words. A lot.
In response to my expressing surprise at its presence, my friend wrote:
I’m amazed at the confluence of
“abides” in your life all at once. Wow. Sounds like some sort of message to me.
I always think of that word as very comforting and peaceful. So maybe “hang in
there” is the word, or “I’m here with you,” or both. Something like that?
I was/am
amazed too. Looking back, that’s what I needed, to hang in there. It’s what I
needed to hear: I’m here with you. She wrote that January 20th of
2014, January of what would become the most fucked up year of my life. I know,
that probably comes across as dramatic, and it is vulgar. But the year was both
dramatic and vulgar. Someday I’ll express the vulgarity of 2014 in a book that
I’ll probably never sell. Until then, perhaps “abiding” belongs not only in my
mind and soul but on my body.
I probably
won’t get a tattoo. I’m too cheap and too scared of permanence. But I’ll keep
abiding. I’ll keep hanging in there, listening for and trusting that someone
will always say, “I’m here with you.”
